


I Miss Your Battle Cry

by Missy_dee811



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tony, Bottom Tony Stark, Domestic Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Tony, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Italian Mafia, M/M, Physical Abuse, Smoking, Speakeasies, Steve Feels, Steve Rogers Feels, Temporary Amnesia, Time Skips, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has Issues, Top Steve, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 03:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6139345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Rogers faked his death in an attempt to save Stark, but it backfires. He returns upon finding out Stark, with whom he had been romantically involved, is in a coma.</p><p>Rogers visits Stark, who's accompanied by his mournful friends. Rogers soon learns Stark doesn't recall his death or the circumstances surrounding it. </p><p>Does he tell Stark the truth and risk fracturing what they have or does he turn a new leaf and start anew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to the Hornet's Nest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roachalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roachalk/gifts), [XinRui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XinRui/gifts).



> This started as a thought exercise: would things have been different if, at the end of Stark Disassembled, Steve had sat down with Tony and told him about the Civil War instead of letting him find out on his own?
> 
> Then, I thought about Steve being the one to hide things from Tony (like Tony does in Avengers v5) in a vain attempt to shield him from more pain. No mind wiping here though, I promise.

Before:

He wore a navy, pinstripe suit and a crisp, white shirt. His blonde hair, underneath his bowler hat, was parted and slicked back. His unbuttoned overcoat fluttered behind him as his hips swayed.

He had dressed for the occasion.

It was a cold and windy night. There was a lit cigarette dangling from his cherry red lips. The trail of smoke followed him and the streetlights illuminated his figure as he moved through the shadows.

He was on a mission tonight.

He turned a corner, briskly walked to the end of the block, whereupon he made a turn. He found himself face-to-face with an unassuming brownstone. He checked the address he had written down for confirmation; they matched. He took a deep breath, comforted by his ability to navigate this neighborhood at this hour.

It had been so long since he had walked these streets. They should feel like home and yet, this was an unfamiliar playground, and he, the new kid on the block.

He walked down the alleyway. His keen eye would've caught any trespassers. Nevertheless, he made sure no one had followed. He needn’t have bothered; the wind was his only company. He descended a flight of stairs upon reaching them. It was then that he heard jazz playing in the background.

 _Three knocks ought to do it_ , he thought to himself.

The door swung open, an unassuming man beckoned him inside. "Name, please?"

"Steven Rogers."

"Welcome to the Hornet's Nest."

Steve looked around. The place was much larger than it had appeared from the exterior. It was also much nicer. The dim lighting served to accentuate the stonewalled interior. The bar was crowded. Women sat on the barstools with their legs crossed. Some had cigarettes dangling from their painted lips as they laughed at jokes only they understood. Others gladly accepted the drinks they were offered by men wishing to strike gold. A few huddled together and smiled only at each other, their hands lingering on each other's arms and thighs for much longer than Steve was accustomed to seeing.

One woman, in particular, caught his eye. Her auburn hair fell past her shoulders. Seated on her right, nursing a scotch, was an equally attractive woman with short black hair. She was wearing a black, pinstriped pantsuit. Steve assumed – since he knew nothing about women’s fashion – that it was in vogue.

Before long, he had worked his way through the crowd and found himself in the company of the magnanimous Janet van Dyne. Albeit, born into a wealthy family, she had made a name for herself with her designs. Steve admired her for intellect, her wit, and her beauty, but tonight, he wasn’t here for her.

As always, she was impeccably dressed, this time in a long black gown with yellow accents. "Aboveground, I'm Mrs. Pym," she said, sipping from the glass of wine in her hand as she spoke. Steve stared, unsure how to respond. Then, she winked at him, "Here, I'll always be Miss Van Dyne."

At that moment, a man came over, in a deep red suit, his dark brown hair falling into his sapphire eyes. There was a cigar and a glass of scotch in his hand. He smiled and spoke into her ear, loud enough for Steve to hear, "Jan, dear, you look ravishing, as always." She blushed and turned to face him. She offered her hand; he kissed her knuckles. Then, he looked up and saw Steve. "And you are...?"

"Oh, I forgot to introduce..." began Janet before being stopped by Steve.

"No need, ma'am," he replied. He held out his hand and said, "Steven Rogers. Call me Steve."

"Well, Steve, I'm Anthony Stark but please, call me Tony." For a moment, Steve was taken aback. _This is Anthony Stark_ , he thought, unsure how to proceed. Just then, Steve felt electricity run through his veins as their palms touched.

He was on a mission and he was starting to regret that now.

 

A few hours had passed. By the end of the night only a handful of people remained. Sitting on the edge of the bar were the two women from before, whom Steve had spotted when he first came into the Hornet’s Nest. They were laughing at a joke only they understood. The shorthaired women pulled her companion by the wrist, drawing her near, and kissed her, at which point, Steve looked away, ashamed for having intruded on this private moment.

Just then, Tony came over, having been watching Steve from afar.

Meanwhile, sitting at a table, deep in conversation, were Janet and a woman with strawberry blonde hair, who had arrived after Steve. She had excused herself and said her husband was sorry he couldn’t make it. No one seemed to mind that he hadn’t come though his presence was surely missed. Nevertheless, they were joined by a tall, attractive blonde-haired woman, who had arrived with Tony's best friend, James.

"Pepper, would you be a doll and come over here?" The tall, slender woman seated next to Janet turned in the direction of Tony's voice, and nodded. She rose to her feet and excused herself.

"Now that everyone's gone, I want you to meet Steve. He's coming to work for us," said Tony. Pepper eyed him questioningly and said, "Us or you?" She pulled Tony aside. Steve couldn’t make out what they were saying but he saw Tony shrug.

Pepper walked over to Steve and said, "I'm Mr. Stark's personal accountant. I manage all of his businesses,” she glared at Tony as she said it; he merely shrugged. “If you need anything, you're to call me." She handed him a business card. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me, I'll head back over to the table, my drink is melting."

As she walked away, her long, strawberry blonde hair moved in unison with her hips.

Tony put his hand on Steve's shoulder; he felt that cackle of energy, once again. "She's something, isn't she?" Steve nodded. Tony's hand, still on his shoulder, skimmed his arm. Steve's heavily lidded eyes turned to look at him. His eyes, too, were dark with desire.

Steve was on a mission and this was more than he bargained for and yet, he couldn't pull away, couldn't make himself stop.

Tony pulled him into an adjacent room, as he loosened his tie. Steve, in spite of himself, leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met. He could taste the whiskey on his breath, could still smell the tobacco, and yet, he was overcome. Tony's fingers gripped the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

After a few moments, they parted, both panting, to catch their breaths.

"Well, this has been fun," said Tony, his hair disheveled from where Steve's hands had combed through. Steve couldn't help but notice how he licked his reddened lips as he pulled a business card from his pocket. It was a deep red, embossed with gold lettering. "You'll hear from me, but I'd much prefer it if I heard from you." He leaned into Steve's ear and whispered, "Goodnight."

He readjusted his tie as he walked back toward what was left of the party, leaving Steve behind with only his traitorous thoughts. 


	2. Do You Wish to Continue?

After:

Steve braced himself before entering the room. It had been so long.

When he entered, all eyes were on him. Pepper's freckled cheeks were red and her eyes were puffy from crying. Natasha sat next to her, the majority of her face obscured by her long, auburn hair. She held Pepper in her arms, their foreheads touching, as she whispered words of comfort.

Maria was conspicuously absent as was Happy. _Where were they_ , wondered Steve.

Janet and Hank sat in the far corner. Janet used a handkerchief, presumably Hank's, to dab her eyes, careful not to ruin her makeup. She too had been crying though not as profusely as Pepper. Hank wasn't nearly as distraught as his wife was, but he still looked concerned, which surprised Steve for Hank had never been one to display his emotions.

James stood near the door, behind which he knew, was Tony, lying in his bed. He wore a guarded expression but in the intervening years, Steve had come to know the man rather well and could tell that he too was worried. _What had happened?_

He spoke, to no one in particular, "How bad is it?" Natasha answered him first as she pushed her hair out of her face, "Steve..."

Rhodey chimed in "He's..."

Finally, Janet spoke through silent sobs, "Tell me you won't let them get away. Tell me you’ll make them pay." All Steve could do was nod. _Oh, Janet, if only you knew, I was the real villain._

Steve nodded intent on keeping his promise. _If only they knew. I’ve failed you, Tony._ Lastly, Pepper spoke, tears streaming down her cheeks, "He's alive, he's breathing, but... I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse." Having heard more than enough and bracing himself for the worst he headed for the door.

Inside, Tony was lying in a heap of pillows, the right side of his head bandaged. His right eye was swollen. He smiled softly but it looked more like a grimace with his contorted features. However, his cerulean eyes were full of warmth, like the sea on a warm summer's day. "Hello, gorgeous," said Tony.

Steve hadn’t heard his voice in months. He had longed to hear it again but instead of the joy he thought he’d feel, he only felt anguish. _I missed you so much_ , he wanted to say but didn’t. He couldn’t find the right words. They felt hollow in his throat.

Steve stood at the foot of the bed and watched as Tony readjusted himself and sat up. "What's with the long face, you look like you've seen a ghost." _If only you knew, I’m the ghost, Tony. You were better off without me._

"Tony, what do you remember?"

"You had asked me to meet you. We had agreed on that run-down diner..." He stopped speaking upon seeing Steve's expression. "That was... Months ago,” he took a deep breath. _There was no use lying about this_ , he rationed. “I haven't seen you in months."

It was Tony's turn to look confused. "What do you mean 'months'? Steve, where have you been? What's happened?"

_He couldn't confess, not now. Not after everything that had happened, after all the mistakes he had made. Tony didn't know. Maybe this was it... This was his chance to correct his wrongs. Maybe this time, they could be happy._

Tony had been the only one to know and now, he didn't suspect a thing. _How could he?_ The concussion had given him amnesia. He was missing months of time.

_How do I tell him I’m not supposed to be here? How do I tell him everyone thought I was dead? I came back, only to find you were in a coma from which you’re just now waking up._

Steve knew the noble thing would be to fess up now and admit to his wrongdoings. He had spent years, during which time he had been collecting information on Tony's illegal dealings, by Tony's side as both his lover and his confidante.  

He had heard rumors of Tony's promiscuity including the other, more sinister rumors concerning his choice of nightly companions. Steve had heard all about his drinking. Who could blame him for thinking he would be anything but the intelligent, funny, and sympathetic man he encountered at the Hornet's Nest, with his intoxicating smile and delectable lips.

It was supposed to be simple: infiltrate their ranks, earn their trust and respect, and pass any information onto Chief Fury so they could mount a case.

Steve had accounted for everything but the man himself... His charm, his wit, his laughter...

The way his eyelashes skimmed his cheeks as he closed his eyes to dream… The rise and fall of his chest as he climaxed…

No, Steve had never accounted for that.

He had never expected to bed him let alone fall in love with him and here he was, faced with a choice. He could break his heart all over again. He could tell him it was all a lie, even though that, in and of itself, was a lie. It had never been a lie, but Tony wouldn’t believe – shouldn’t believe – him, not after he had spent all this time deceiving him.

He would be a fool to deny it, especially after that first night. It was then he knew there was no going back. It was then he knew any course he took would lead him down a path of pain and misery.

_He’s worth it._

“Tony, there’s something I need to tell you.”

 


	3. All Is Fair in Love and War

Earlier:

"Steve, it's early... Come back to bed," said Tony, his voice gruff from a full night's sleep. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. His tousled hair fell into his brilliant sapphire eyes. He was wearing nothing but a long, red silk robe, loosely tied at the waist, exposing his muscular chest and olive skin.

Steve was on the balcony, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips, his hands on the railings, overlooking the street below. He hadn't slept most of the night and had awoken just before dawn. He could hear the nervousness in Tony's voice. He did a good job of masking his emotions around others but with Steve, it never worked.

He always saw right through him.

 _Perhaps, Tony can see right through me_ , thought Steve. He had finally decided. He wouldn't hide anymore. Today, he'd tell Tony the truth even if it meant they could never be together again. _It's the right thing to do. It's what I should've done from the beginning. It's what any good man would do._

He felt warm hands wrap around his waist pulling him away from the balcony. "Come inside, darling." He felt Tony's lips ghost over his shoulders as he spoke. He knew it was wrong but he longed for his touch. _This could be the last time._

He tossed the cigarette into the ashtray and followed his lover back inside.

 

He felt the soft mattress below him as Tony's strong legs straddled him, pinning him to the bed. He was hard already. Tony leaned into kiss him; his mouth was warm and inviting. Steve let his hands roam, down his torso to the wet, throbbing tip. "Someone's ready to go."

"For you, always," replied Tony biting on his lower lip. He could still taste the tobacco on his tongue but he didn't care. He desperately wanted nothing more than to lie with Tony, undisturbed.

 _This is wrong_ , he kept thinking, but he didn’t stop. He let Tony work his way down his body, as he kissed and sucked and bit, until he felt his mouth engulf his cock. He couldn’t contain his moans; they escaped him. He felt Tony smile against him as he moved up and down. He didn’t flinch when Steve thrust into his mouth. He cupped his balls and massaged them with hands.

He drew small circles with his thumb as he sucked on his balls and licked his cock from the shaft to the head. _I should stop him_ , he thought, when he wanted nothing of the sort.

 

He felt Tony’s nails dig into him as he lowered himself. “Deep breaths, Tony.”

“God, Steve, you’re huge.” Steve blushed, color rising high in his cheeks and down along his neck. “I have you to thank for that,” he whispered into Tony’s ear just before he bit down on the soft flesh just below his ear. Tony groaned as Steve thrust up into him; Tony let out a moan. Steve gripped his hips, settling into rhythm.

Steve opened his eyes. Tony’s dark hair fell and framed his face. Steve cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer, kissing him passionately. He used the opportunity to thrust deeper, angling himself so that each thrust stimulated his prostate. Tony’s screams were muffled by Steve’s kiss. They were both panting and breathing hard. Sweat was pooling on Tony’s skin. Steve’s nails dug into Tony’s ass, as he grabbed it. “Come for me.” His free hand gripped his hips. There was slight bruising already but Tony didn’t seem to mind.

_I never meant to hurt you._

He took his cock in his hand, matching the rhythm he had set. Before long, his fingers were covered with come. He flipped Tony on his back, as he licked the come off his fingers, and continued fucking him until he came.

They were both covered in sweat and each other’s come but neither man seemed to mind. Their legs were intertwined at the ankles. Tony ran his hand through Steve’s hair. He held him in a close embrace. “God, Steve, you’re so beautiful.”

“That’s how I feel about you, Tony.” Steve leaned in to kiss him.

 

He could scarcely imagine Tony’s anger and disillusionment.

 

“Goddamn, Rogers! How long? How long have you been lying to my face?” He was screaming now. _Who could blame him?_ He reached for the scotch. Steve wanted to stop him but he had been the one to cause this. It was his fault but he couldn’t keep lying. Sam had warned him it would come to this. Steve could only pretend for so long. He was bound. He had sworn an oath to uphold the law and protect the people of this city. He had failed on both accounts.

_I couldn’t save Bucky, and now, I can’t save you. They’ll come for you, Tony. Eventually, they’ll come, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you then._

_I love you._

Tony’s hand was shaking as he tore off the top and poured it into an empty glass. His eyes were red and puffy. His cheeks were blotchy. “You used me, Steve.”

“I’d do it again if it meant protecting you, Tony. I love you.”

“No… No, you fucking don’t. God, I can’t believe I ever thought any of this was real. What was I thinking?” He laughed. It was an ugly sound, both bitter and resentful. Steve knew he should apologize and ask for forgiveness but part of him wanted to hear what Tony had to say. He wanted to feel his words cutting into him, each one leaving a wound deeper than the last.

By the time Steve stood to leave, Tony had drank more than half the bottle. His hands were still shaking; although, he didn’t slur his words, his steps were shaky. “If I never see you again, it’ll be too soon. Get out. We’re done, Steve.”

Steve grabbed his coat from behind the chair and walked out of the room, not before he turned to see Tony, slumped on the floor, clutching his chest, the half-drank glass of scotch in his hands, the bottle at his feet, as he wept.


	4. A Rose with Many Thorns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait... I was sitting on this chapter for awhile, unsure how to finish it; we're back in the present.
> 
> A lot goes on here. Please be mindful of the warnings. I update the tags when I post a new chapter and this is no exception. I don't condone what happens, personally, but for the sake of the story, the escalation of violence, on Steve's part, is necessary. I'm still unsure which way to take this story. It depends entirely on whether or not I want this to end happily for Steve. 
> 
> As for Janet, I have plans for her.

Present:

In the end, he was not the man he thought he was. Not the man he thought he should be. Definitely not the man deserving of this kind of love and affection.

 

Tony, leaning against the headboard, motioned for Steve to sit next to him, “Darling, sit.” Steve obliged him. It was the least he could do. He felt his throat go dry. He stared at his palms, he couldn’t bear to look at Tony, couldn’t bear to see his eyes. “I’ve something to tell you.”

“Lay it on me,” replied Tony. Had Steve not been so busy contemplating the calluses on his hands, he would’ve caught the inflection in Tony’s voice, which betrayed his calm demeanor. He knew something was wrong, could sense it; the tension in the air, palpable.

“I – Before, I say anything else, Tony, I want you know to know, I love you. I have loved you for years now. I didn’t know what to expect when I met you all those nights ago at the club. I didn’t know if you were the man I had read about in the paper…”  He paused, letting the silence fill the room. Tony waited eagerly for him to continue but said nothing.

“I know they’re all liars. I know they don’t know you, not the way all those people out there do, and definitely not the way I do… At one time, I’m afraid to say, I thought they might be right. I thought there might be some truth to their lies and slander, but now… I know better. You’re twice the man they think you are and you’re not worthy of their time.” Beside him, Tony reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I fell in love with your eyes, with your smile,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, as if the truth were sacred.  He sighed, running his free hand through his short, cropped hair. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me.”

Tony traced small circles on the back of his hand, calming Steve in ways he couldn’t have thought imaginable a few weeks ago. He looked over and their blue eyes met, concern clearly visible on his battered features. It was a calming gesture but it only furthered Steve’s inner turmoil. _Just let him_ , his mind supplied in response, _in a few moments he won’t want to be near you_. _Savor it_. _It’s all you’ll have_.

Tony caressed his cheek. “Steve, you couldn’t have known what was going to happen. No one could’ve. We were unprepared. Who knows how long they had been planning to take me out? There’s nothing you could’ve done, darling. Don’t berate yourself over this. It’s my job to worry, not yours,” he said as he kissed his knuckles. Steve wanted to run away, he wanted to scream, ‘But it was! I gave you up! I sacrificed everything! I was so naïve. How could I have thought – How could I?’

He said nothing as Tony ran his lips over his knuckles and his hairs stood on end.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Tony smiled. “Besides, you’re here with me now.”

_This is it, just fucking tell him. Tell him you knew all along that he was a target. Tell him you had been supplying the NYPD, over the years, with information – most of it, the vast majority of it – confidential, told between whispered confessions of love and admiration in the throes of passion. Tell him you couldn’t have known about the attack, true, but you had always known it was a matter of time. Tell him you had left him… you had broken his heart, and left him._

_Tell him you fucking coward._

“You – you should rest. We’ll talk more when you wake up,” said Steve, having lost his resolve. He berated himself. _Tony doesn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve it then and he doesn’t now._

Tony eyed him, concern flashing across his eyes quickly. “Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.” Steve nodded as he rose from the bed and walked to the door. It was all he could do to keep himself from falling apart.

 

_He hadn’t been in the mansion in many months now. He had once called this place his home. As he walked down the stairs, he slid his hands across the rails, thinking back to the first time he had happily run up the stairs, dragging Tony behind him. How they had kissed at the top of the steps, away from onlookers, hidden by the shadows. How Tony had smiled, pressed against his cheek._

_“Stay the night, will you?”_

_“Only if you want me to,” replied Steve, nibbling on Tony’s ear as the other man ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, I definitely want you to stay. No one will know, if you don’t want them to,” said Tony coy. He pulled away, his iridescent blue eyes twinkling in the dim light._

 

Reaching the foot of the stairs, a voice from behind the closed door at the end of the hall drew him out of his reverie. He couldn’t discern any words in particular, but the tone put him on edge. Who would be here at this hour, still? Those who had come to see Tony would’ve left long ago. Only those who lived in the mansion would still be around.

He balled his fists, the answer formulating quicker than his steps. He knew whose voice was behind that locked door. He approached it quietly.

Never one for a quiet entrance, he swung the door open. Before him, he saw Janet, pinned against the wall by her throat. Her bloodshot eyes filled with tears as she gasped for air.

“That’s the last time you fucking do that, you heard?”

“Hank, please,” she begged, the tears overflowing and rolling down her cheek. “I – didn’t – do – anything,” she croaked, hardly breathing.

“No one fucking asked you, _Janet_. No one fucking asked you to open your mouth back there,” screamed Hank into her face.

Steve had seen and heard more than enough. He crisscrossed the room, his heart beating erratically. He had seen and heard many scenes like the one before him growing up and wasn’t looking forward to this new memory. Only minutes ago he had felt guilt, anguish. He had longed for the past, the one he knew he couldn’t change. But all of that was gone now.

“For starters, lower your wife and step away from her,” said Steve, pulling out his pistol. Hank raised his hands, unwittingly lowering Janet, who fell to the floor. She rubbed at her sore throat but remained silent, the tears, hot and fresh, continuing to fall.

“You’re a fucking disgrace,” said Steve, his voice teeming with anger and disgust. The back of his pistol smashed into his jaw, and after that, he saw red.

 

At some point, Janet had started screaming, someone else rushed in – perhaps it was James – and dragged him away, his bloodied knuckles dripping onto the carpet.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't necessarily know if this will be a fix-it of sorts, even though it's an AU, but it will definitely try to amend some of the things I take issue with in 616, namely that Steve doesn't really have to deal with the consequences of his actions.
> 
> Please feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](http://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com).


End file.
